Below you will find all the poems I have written, whether good or bad. The new poems is on top, while the old on the bottom. Enjoy!

The Mask (Sestina)

When you see yourself in the mirror,
and you want to create a new identity,
why not use a mask?
Selections are vast,
it comes in different shades,
and there's no telling how many different patterns.

If you're picky on the patterns,
and don't like what you see in the mirror,
why not change the shades?
Making a new identity,
would have a very vast
end result. There's also a chance you wont like that particular mask.

Why would anyone want to buy a mask?
Is it because of the many pretty patterns?
Or is it to a improve a collection so vast?
Would looking everyday at one's own reflection in the mirror
be the reason? Or is it to hide one's current identity?
Maybe its to block the sun from your eyes with an alternative shades.

What can you tell from shades?
Does feelings show themselves in a mask?
But then again, one can't tell the different identity,
let alone what the meaning of the flowing patterns.
When you look in the mirror,
Don't you feel small and the world so vast?

The natives have many collections, so vast
it would knock your breath away with their striking shades.
One would stand for hours in front of the mirror,
trying on the different mask.
But mostly people chose it because of their patterns,
to represent their individual identity.

Can one have so many identity,
so that one would know a vast
amount of people? Different people have different patterns
of personality and various skin shades.
One can have a lot of mask,
and still not look different in the mirror.

All the pretty patterns on the mirror,
would not create the identity you wish only by shades,
nor can it be from one's vast collection of different mask.

The Boy (First & Last)

In the corner of the living room was an album of unbearable photos.
A small boy who collects odd things gave it to me as a goodbye present.
I remember him running toward the ship with tears of joy in his eyes.
He handed me his most prized possessions,
walked away without looking back while whistling a tune,
and then a small song, a little smile, and then nothing.

Helen (Ideal Cinquain)

female, loyal
Reading, thinking, dreaming
happy, depressed, mellow, hazy

What I Know About Poetry Is... (Free Verse)

What I know about poetry is;
that sometimes it echoes off the wall,
like riddles of illusions, it only shows its face once in a while.
Bards used them to entertain the royals,
inspired readers called them loyal.
It comes in different pattern and measure,
that stretches itself to reach and grab unsuspecting company.

Heavenly Battle: Angels & Demons (Diamante)

diabolical, morbid
deceiving, tricking, confusing
destroying, killing; building, saving
helping, guiding, serving
radiant, flawless

Geysers (Haiku)

High mountain of springs,
splashes of the rainbow sun;
still, in the sea wave.

Hermit Crabs (Haiku)

Looking for new home,
always living in new shells
the lonely wanders.

Ghost Of Me (Free Verse)

That is all I hear,
no friends to support me,
no pets to keep my company.
And so, I am a ghost of me.
A ghost with no life.
A ghost with cold heart.
A ghost wondering the endless field of regrets... myself,
Doesn't a ghost need something to hold on to, too?
I want to hold on to the
warmth of love,
warmth of happiness,
warmth of the sun in my face.
Moving on,
from the ice forming over me,
from the constant reminders that I have nothing,
from the dispirited world.
So ghost of me,
stop the pathetic attempt to be;
to be something you're not,
just be yourself,
despite the things that brings you down,
despite the things that gets in your way.
Just take your broken wings,
and learn to fly again;
soar to the highest mountain.
sail to the horizon.
And achieve something nobody's ever done.
and find something good eventually,
and be free,
and be wild,
and have a dream,
and have a hope,
and have a life,

Searching (Free Verse)

I journeyed to the West,
then to the East,
searching for nothing
but finding something.
Then I look to the North
and saw not what i was looking for.
I, at last, turned to the South
with heavy heart
and still i found something,
but that is not what I'm looking for.

The wind fly like butterflies
to the bright green sea of grass.
The morning darkened into night
and still i found something,
the wisdom of happiness,
pain, suffering, and more from the world.

What am I searching for?
What am i doing here?

I looked in the great plains
then to the valleys
and then to the the mountains
I stop at the sea
and still i am searching....

The Storm (Free Verse)

Rage, violent, passionate, fierce....
The eye of a hurricane gaze at the surrounding civilizations.

The water tossed and turned.
Great waves raze everything in its path,
devastating and sodden the fate of the city lies.
Swirls of white consume the majestic ships,
and transport them into the depth of the illusionous paradise.

Rain approaches, racing, each drop of
glistening water to the foundations of the Earth.
Lightning lashes out like whips of aggressive snakes.
Thunder followed making hideous noises.
Hail comes piercing through....
Tornadoes sweep the tiny grain of dust.

Wild, pounding, angry, rebellious....

Beware, the storm comes...
not liking order and are a natural occurrence
but also transform the complicated structure
of this beautiful earth and renew the environment.
They come, they go,
this is only the beginning.

Time (Free Verse)

I look into the future
but rely on the past,
as not to make the same mistake.
I write history,
but doesn't make the choice.
I can go forward,
as well as backward,
but I was created.

I am time.
I can make things decay or rusted.
I can travel anywhere,
to the nineteenth century,
or the year five thousand.
I can go back to when the earth is void of life
to when the earth is full of beautiful plants
to when the dinosaurs are extinct and
human beings rule the planet.

I can see when a seed gets planted in the soil
to when the roots grow and produce a stem
to when they grow and to be a bud
to when the petals blow on the wind
to when they spoiled and withered away
only to be reborn again the next season.

I can go forward to when the earth is destroyed
or to when the moon breaks into two
or to when all the animals died
or to when all the water becomes polluted
or to when the sun explodes and annihilated the planets
or to when human inventions rebels against them
or to when another World War will arrive
or to when each individual loses his/her spark of life.

They wait for me to get a new car
or a certain item.
They wait for me to pass High School
or a certain complicated test.
They wait for me to reach a certain age
or when they are impatient.
They wait for me to go faster.
They wait for me to go slower
without me, everything would be still.

I am indestructible.
I am the keeper of the sunrise in the morning and sundown at night.
I am invisible.
I am balanced.
I am time.

(c) AceArtemis7